Wings
by Ladyhawk-s
Summary: The power that kept Amelie away has started to diminish and remnants of the past has begun to seep in. However, Amelie is torn between the old life she had been living under Talon and this new life in hiding. She's beginning to understand emotions and even possibly the meaning of love but with Talon on her trail, she has to find a way to keep her new self before she reverts back.
1. Blood, Sweat, and Tears

**_AN: Hello ! So I'm here today to present this new fanfic my friend and I been working on together! Shockingly enough, we both have super similar interests in OW and when Amily gave me this idea, I just knew we had to do it together! We've been having a lot of fun with it and we hope that you will enjoy it as much as us. That being said, we are a bit of slow writers so we will post new chapters every other week unless something stops us. But we are really excited and I hope you all will love it as well! 3 As she doesn't have a , I will be the one to post it on here but do give her lots of love on AO3 (xxamilychanxx). Love y'all and hope you all enjoy!_**  
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McCree stopped right in front of an old-fashioned bar, raising his hat just enough to peak at its neon red sign, 'The Barking Spider'. The name was a rather odd choice. but it was enough to catch attention. Even though this bar wasn't as good as the one in Castillo, it still got the job done, making him pay a visit occasionally. Not only did it have a fantastic jukebox, but also a big, antique barback with detailed wooden carpentry. The big, heavy, wood tables were surrounded with comfortable stools and chairs, giving the place a warm, friendly vibe.

The man casually opened the door, inviting himself in and tipping his hat ever so slightly to greet the familiar faces. His light brown eyes skimmed around, failing to spot the woman he was searching for. He made his way towards the home bar, taking a seat.

The old bartender walked over to him with a friendly smile, his hands busy with drying one of the beer mugs. "The usual?" he asked with a goofy smile, showing off his missing front teeth. McCree allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips as he placed a cigar right between them. "The usual" he confirmed, sending a friendly wink at the acquainted bartender. His gloved fingers lightly tapped on the counter, making a small tempo as he waited.

However, he didn't have to wait long for his mystery guest. Slender fingers roamed on his back, giving a tempting massage that indicated her presence.

"Hello McCree..." whispered the girl, her Mexican accent breathing against his darkened ear. Her hands moved from his back and wrapped around his neck to clasp to his front. One look at her hands showed that she didn't hide any subtlety in her outfit. Secrecy wasn't in her name and the neon gloves didn't change that. "You called?" She added with a chuckle, trying to ruffle up his feathers.

Her voice sent a shiver down his spine, having an electrifying effect on him. "Hey, Sombra… Good to see ya" he whispered back as his fingers finally found something to hold on. He gently placed his hand over her clasped ones, sending a gentle squeeze. "I knew you would show up. Much obliged."

While his back was still facing her, his other hand creeped towards the empty stool right next to him, patting softly on top of it. "Why don't you take a seat, today's drinks are on me." He offered, tilting his head to side so his beard would brush itself on her arm. "I need to talk to ya." This time, his voice carried a tint of seriousness.

Sombra gave a small smirk before sliding her arms away from his defined neck and placing herself in the seat next to him. She flagged the bartender over with a coy wave. "I'll have what he is having," she ordered before sending him away with a regal hand motion. The bartender gave a small scoff, though he immediately scurried off once he caught onto Sombra's vicious glare.

Crossing a patterned leg over the other one, Sombra leaned her head into a balled fist, her purple eyes flirting around McCree. A playful smile danced onto her lips. "What is it you need, cowboy? Are you looking for another round of fun?" She slyly asked, reaching her free hand onto his leg and caressing it, playing with the idea of more. Her eyelashes batting against each other didn't help with the image at all.

McCree took a drag as his eyes landed on Sombra's suggestive ones. For a moment he remained silent, watching her with deep, hooded eyes. "Not necessarily" he admitted; however, he didn't feel like refusing the offer blatantly either. "Though, I could do an exception. Just for you."

Once their drinks were served, the cowboy focused his attention on his cup. He took a quick sip from his whiskey, tasting its strong smoky flavor. "I need you to do somethin' for me" he began while pulling a small photograph from his pocket. He placed it upside down on the table, pushing it towards her way. A sigh escaped his lips. "I know you have the answer. Just need ya to tell me his current location, that's all," he explained before Sombra got a chance to peak at the image of Reaper.

Sombra gave a slow blink before sliding the photo over to her, not letting go of McCree's eyes. Eye contact pulsed between them for a second until Sombra detached herself away from him and stared at the photo. It was a photo of Reaper, though taken in a side shot that didn't capture his full face. However, that mask told his identity.

Sombra scoffed as her eyes scanned the photo, taking in the figure and his surrounding areas. "Ah, this old man again, huh? If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you had a crush on him or something," she teased back, her tone indicating her knowledge of their spat back in the Blackwatch days. Her eyes fluttered back to him and, with the photo placed between her fingers, she turned it over back to him for him to grab it. "I do have the answer...though for a price," she snapped back the photo towards her again and twisted in her chair while analyzing it further. "Why are you concerned where he is anyways? Do you have something _special_ to tell him?"

"You could say that" he answered with a low chuckle, slyly beating around the bush. He didn't have any intention to provide a proper explanation. "Ya know, I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't important for me."

"So, tell me" he began as he turned around to face her better, "What exactly do you want?" he asked, hinting at her words from earlier. Suddenly, the conversation was turning into a weird negotiation. After a brief pause, a smirk creeped onto his face. "Is it going to be one of those 'pay what you want'?" He asked, teasing her back.

Sombra trailed her eyes on his smirk, including the little dimple that formed at the side. She then brought herself back to McCree, waiting a bit before speaking again. Her hand placed itself under her chin, completing the deep thought look.

However, it was all a sham. Sombra never needed to be in deep thought. Her mind was already made up the minute McCree spoke. "How about this, cowboy?" She began, leaning far enough into McCree where he could feel her breath tickling against his skin. "You tell me why you're so curious and I'll give you the exact coordinates," her violet irises shifted down for a moment before coming back up. "...plus a little more for the trouble. What do you say?"

"Father's day is approaching. That old man must be feeling pretty lonely. Thought I would pay him a visit" he joked around before chugging the rest of his drink down. That was as close as he would get to the truth. A cautious grin rested on his relaxed facial features. "Ya know, for good old times' sake" he added, winking at her. His exaggerated tone of voice was a blatant give away that this time he wasn't playing with her terms.

And boy, did she catch on. Sombra scoffed at him once more, baffled at his stubbornness towards her advances. Normally, information would lead to something more but this time, he put the cap on it harder than anticipated.

"Well, make sure to get him a card then. I'm sure he'll appreciate it," she joked back, playing around with his words. "But, as much as I _adore_ father-son bonding, I need something in return. I don't work for free," Sombra made clear, seriousness cutting into the features of her face. She leaned in closer but the sexual vibe that surrounded her earlier turned ominous in a second.

The cowboy gazed back at her, protecting his silence for a bit. He took his sweet time, patiently observing the female's serious features. "Hey, lighten' up your pretty face" he suggested, managing to speak with cigar in his mouth. "As long as you accept a different type of payment, I'm willin' to pay."

One hand removed the cigar, holding it tightly between his fingers away from her. The other cut the air with a knife. Having the speed of a gunslinger, he quickly reached for the picture, stealing it back from Sombra's grasp with a drastic move. As he did that, he also closed the remaining distance between them, getting right into her personal space. "I might have something interesting for you" he began, his hot breath touching on her face. "You are interested in learnin' more about _the Iris,_ right? Can help ya about that."

If Sombra was surprised by this, she certainly didn't show it. Her face was cold and rigid, as if she was frozen in that current state. No one could guess what was going through her mind. It was a tangled mystery that webbed itself into knots.

" _The Iris_ , huh?" She whispered to him, her breath sending a chill towards McCree. Now this was a sign of interest. "What is it that you know?" Sombra asked with harsh intent, making it clear she wasn't messing around.

"Seems like it's the subject of Shambali faith, believing in this symbol of a mysterious eye. Used to be preached by Mondatta until... well, ya know. Anyways..." The cowboy paused briefly, his eyes flickered from hers to their surroundings to make sure that nobody was listening to them. "I'll keep this brief. Have ya heard of an omnic monk who goes by Zenyatta?" McCree asked. He wasn't smiling anymore. "I don't really get all this omnic and AI stuff, but that's the guy you need to speak to. I can tell you where he is."

He really didn't need to ask her if she knew Zenyatta or not. Sombra somehow knew everything with her hacking abilities. One swipe of her hand and history trickled down her fingertips. She knew everything about McCree and all these people he mentioned. In a way, it made it easier to work with her but it was also the cause of frustration when secrets were kept hidden in her mind and only the best would have it be unlocked.

However, this...this wasn't something she fully knew. He could tell by the raise of her purple eyebrows and the little glimmer that shone in her eyes.

"I see..." Sombra spoke, folding her hands under her chin to study him more. As if she was analyzing the truth behind his words. Thank god cowboys didn't lie; they only stretched the truth. "And how do I know you'll give me the right lead? How do I know this isn't a plan to send me to that group of yours? I do have vital information that is wanted. I need to be careful. You know how cruel this world is," she said, though her tone was teasing and completely lacking any form of seriousness. McCree knew she would be able to get out of any of situation with a snap of her fingers. This was just her sick way of getting that extra push she needed before she would give up anymore information. Think of it as a way to cover all her bases without actually needing to.

"Didn't know that I come off as a liar." McCree joked around as he pulled himself away from her, allowing a subtle half smirk to rest on his lips. "How about this..." he began, totally playing right into her trap.

Or, was he?

"That omnic monk will be hosting a religious study group at the Shambali Temple tomorrow. Most likely goin' to be streamed live." He explained, sounding very confident about his words. "You can confirm it. I recommend to look into that... Believe me, it's for your best interest." On surface what seemed like a genuine simple suggestion was actually a warning message, a quick heads up. McCree didn't need to be open about it. He didn't need to outright mention how conveniently Overwatch was planning to have their Talon operation on the same day. All he needed to do was to cautiously pick his words. He knew Sombra would catch on the real meaning of his statement.

And that she did. She gave a smirk and twirled a piece of her hair around her finger that had a flirtatious vibe behind it. Sombra clearly liked his warning message. She was always a sucker for that.

"I wouldn't exactly call you a truther, cowboy, but..." Sombra flicked her eyes away from him in a second and then brought them back to him, having a new shine attached to them. "This sounds interesting. Much more interesting than the plan Talon made," she alluded, going into McCree's words with the same amount of ambiguity he was giving. "I don't know what kind of party is it when it's in the middle of nowhere but I guess they found the Saint Elias Mountains to be worthwhile. Pretty boring if you ask me but then...when has that old man ever been _interesting_ "

McCree chuckled at her words, shaking his shoulders ever so slightly. "You could say that again" he murmured, appreciating her good sense of humor. "I stopped questionin' his mindset long time ago." He brought up, recalling his interactions with Gabriel who would later be known as Reaper. Even way back then, he was never fond of his methods.

The cowboy was happy about the turn of events. The negotiation was a success. Just like he envisioned, he managed to learn about Talon's hideout location. He made a mental note to apologize to Genji for revealing information about Zenyatta.

He switched his attention back to Sombra. "Too bad, I can't hang with ya longer." He muttered, hinting at his upcoming departure. "If only my group didn't need my help. Would have preferred to spend time with ya instead." He added, a look of longing crossing his face. "Are you free next week? Y'know... We could make up for today's meeting."

"Awww and just when I was thinking you weren't as boring as the others," Sombra said with an exaggerated pout, mimicking the look of disappointment with a hint of scheme in there. She even completed the look by pushing away from him in a teasing manner. If anyone didn't know her, they would think she was actually upset that he had to leave her. What would surprise them though is that she was probably just as ready to go as he was. Staying still never happened...unless she was given something she wanted. Or if it pleased her enough.

A finger pressed up against her plump bottom lip and her irises looked up, acting as if she was in deep thought. "Hmmm, next week? Oh, I will have to look at my schedule. So many men, so little time," she joked back. McCree knew that she was only emulating what was expected to say. Rather, knowledge was her first love and he was lucky to be on the side. "But I think I have room in my schedule for you, _Joel._ "

At least she made time for him.

McCree rolled his eyes; a small disbelief was present in his body language. "You still insistin' on that? I mentioned to you before, my name's not Joel." He commented, giving his regular ambiguous answer.

Shifting his attention, he motioned for the busy bartender. "Put it on my tab." He requested loudly, pulling out his famous McCree attitude. Without waiting for the man's response, he quickly stood up from his seat. A stranger would assume that he was making a run for it.

Before he left the bar, he gave one last glance at Sombra. He reached to brush her cheek with the back of his hand, the leather glove tickling her skin. "Since you're _very_ busy, you can pick the time." He teased, acting as if he had all the free time in the world. "When you decide, just let me know. Ya know how to reach me."

Sombra placed her hands over his own and wrapped them tight against the gloves she wore as well. Despite fabric being between them, there still was that jolt, that spark between them that surged through even the thickest of fabrics. One would call it romantic, passionate, _electrifying_ even.

Too bad that wasn't how Sombra worked.

"Jeez, cowboy. I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman and pick the time," she scoffed at him, pushing his hand away in that cute little nudge that wasn't meant to be overtly harmful. Just teasing. Hopping on to her feet, Sombra glided towards McCree, enclosing the space close enough where only fabric and metallic armor kept their bodies apart. She pushed up on her heels and got close to his ear, her breath tickling against the thick skin on his neck. "Thursday, 9pm, your place," she whispered before pulling away. Before McCree could react to any of her words, her finger shot out and touched the tip of his nose that came with a "Boop!"

And then, pink code surrounded her and whisked her away until each last particle dissipated. One second she was there, the next second she was gone, just like that.

Sombra's signature move was no surprise to McCree. He pulled down his hat to obscure his reaction from witnesses, allowing a shadow to cast on his eyes and making them almost invisible. While it was hard to read what was going on in his mind, his pleasant grin was a giveaway.

He made his way towards the exit, fixing his red cloak. "HEY! You better pay your whole tab next time, McCree!" The bartender shouted behind his back, making him stop on his tracks briefly. "You cannot just keep piling on your debt!"

McCree chuckled, shrugging off his shoulders. "I'll try to keep that in mind. Take care old man." He muttered casually before he disappeared into the darkness of the night.


	2. Boy Meets Evil

_**Hello everyone! This is your local ff Cookie Monster here! I'm so sorry about the delay of this chapter! There were a lot of rough spots and we really wanted to make sure that it turned out amazing before we posted it. I would rather wait a small bit of time to post it then present you guys something that isn't the best! With that being said, we really worked hard on this chapter and we hope you like it! 3 - ladyhawk-s**_

Talon's greatest weapon sat on the white medical chair, fully unconscious. In fact, she was intentionally put to sleep. Her whole body was relaxed, unaware of her surroundings. Silent darkness without any thought or imagining was surrounding her, swallowing her being into nothingness.

Meanwhile, Moira stood right in front of her, her eyes cautiously observing the other female. Surprisingly, she lacked her usual arrogant smile. Instead, her lips pursed, and her eyebrows knitted together. She appeared to be lost in thought, until a sudden question took her attention away from her patient.

"How is she doing?" The black hooded figure asked from the other side of the room with his familiar gritty voice. Reaper stood by the door frame, watching the other two from afar. Even though he didn't seem interested in the situation, he still kept an eye on them from a moderate distance.

Moira took her time with her answer. She tilted Widowmaker's chin up to observe her face up close "Her condition seems relatively stable for the time being," she finally said while her long nails scratched assassin's blue skin, leaving temporary red lines behind. "Gabriel, perhaps next time you should inform me sooner. Preparing her drug takes time."

"Give me break," Reaper spat out in annoyance. "It is your job to perform her regular check-ups."

"It seems to me that it is rather convenient for you to blame me for your own mistakes" The scientist commented back with her cunning cadence, shifting her gaze from unconscious Widowmaker to him. Her voice was haunting, pointing fingers at the right target. "Such a pity for you to forget about her injection."

This time, Reaper didn't respond.

Even though the lack of response annoyed her, Moira remained still and waited patiently for few seconds. Once she realized that he wasn't going to give her the reaction she anticipated, her speech continued. "You will take the blame for this" she added, putting extra emphasis on the first word.

"Always have. If something happens, I will deal with its consequences," Reaper replied under his breath. "Just get back to work."

While Moira had no intention to argue with his command, she didn't hesitate to roll her eyes to show her blatant irritation. Trying to ignore Reaper's presence, she slowly approached to her chemistry lab table to get started.

Widowmaker's neural reconditioning required biweekly drug injections. The synthesized drug was supposed to be injected under the skin, through a regular sized syringe. The absence of injections could result in undesirable outcomes, such as her brainwashing to wear off. Even though Moira hated to admit it, she didn't even know the full extent of the possible outcomes.

While the corrupted geneticist focused on her duty, Reaper remained close and made sure everything was under control. Everything seemed normal until a loud clash sound, followed by painfully loud alarm sound that pierced their ears. Without skipping a beat, Reaper grunted loudly and pulled out his shotguns. Meanwhile, Moira reached for her backpack, equipping it as quickly as she could.

She hated to be interrupted in the middle of her work.

"I will take care of the intruders. You stay here," Reaper commanded without even facing her.

"You need a healer. Or are you going to deny it?" She asked, hitting the bull's eye. As Talon's only healer, her presence was needed, and she was very aware of it. She could contribute both healing and damage in any kind of crisis; thus, her abilities were unreplaceable. "No. I didn't think so," she muttered with a very confident, cocky attitude when Reaper didn't respond right away.

"You always did have a high opinion of yourself," he pointed out, sending a glare at her.

Moira always had a comeback. "Ironic, especially coming from you."

Even if they wanted to continue their bickering, Reaper and Moira had to cut their conversation short. Through the loud alarm sound, some distant gunshots could be heard. The duo quickly left the room, leaving unconscious Widowmaker behind. Moira made sure to lock the door, making it less accessible for someone to possibly reach her.

A false beginning.

When Amélie opened up her eyes, things slowly slid into the focus. A painful headache welcomed her, and she thought things couldn't get any worse. Her golden eyes gazed around, observing the alien cold white room. 'Where am I?' she asked herself. This was only the first question that ran through her mind. She tried but couldn't seem to remember the events that led up to that point in time. Actually, the more she tried to recall, the more she realized that she couldn't remember anything at all.

An apparent confusion tried to consume her. However, she couldn't really feel anything. It was awkward for her body to reject this concept, one that it had forgotten a long time ago. She stood up, only to find herself staring down right at her hands, taking a notice of her blue skin.

'What the hell was going on?'

She wanted to worry, she wanted to panic, yet once again, she couldn't feel anything. Her hands started to shake in disbelief. The loud, conspicuous noises from outside weren't helping the situation either. She tried to open up the door, only to find out that it was locked. She thought about calling for help, but hesitated. The words wouldn't come out. The sounds came closer and they morphed into heavy spray of gunshots, ringing in her ears.

Her instincts were telling her to run like the wind. To get as far away from this place as possible.

She decided to listen her hard-wired human survival instincts. First, she tried to find something to protect herself with; however, she couldn't spot any kind of weapon nearby. Her eyes then quickly gazed around, trying to find another escape route. 'Maybe' she thought to herself as she quickly grabbed the nearest object she could reach, throwing it to the medium-sized window. A large crack formed on its surface and that was the answer to her search. With a sense of urgency spiking through her, Amélie kept jabbing at the window until the whole glass surface shattered into pieces. Without more thought, she jumped through, landing her feet into the dirt that covered the building.

When Amélie got outside and looked up at the sky, a small water drop slowly fell on her face. Her gaze met with dark grey clouds that covered patches of the moon. Of course, it was going to rain, why wouldn't it after all? She picked up her pace towards the woods, hoping to get clean away.

She wasn't hurt, at least not physically. However, she was under a huge mental pressure. For the first time in forever, her mind was in a war of its own. Lost in her own world, she found herself whimpering softly, her arms tightly hugging her own cold body. Her feet aimlessly tried to take her somewhere. Just anywhere...

The sky spat the rain faster as she began to scramble down the only passable path through the forest. She was a dark, walking mass hidden in the shadows of the woods. Her whole body was soaking wet from head to toe, and pieces of her dark wet hair stuck to her neck and shoulders. She wasn't wearing proper clothing for rainy weather, her skintight jumpsuit revealing plenty of skin. Yet, despite being drenched on her exposed skin, she appeared unfazed by the coldness of the weather.

She hoped that nobody took a notice of her absence. The last thing she wanted was to be caught by someone.

Further down the path, leaves rustled and branches shook. With the wind picking up and the storm passing by, the culprit was easily based on the natural elements. Only the Earth could produce such heightened measures.

However, there was one tree in particular that shook more than the others. It wasn't obvious from a glance but a darkened figure hid in the shadows, it's shape exceeded beyond simply being a small creature. There were darkened bumps and curves to the mass and if one looked closely, they could see what looked like a weapon.

Out of the blue, Amélie felt an arrow shoot right at her, hitting the tree next to her. Had she been a few inches closer and not had quickened reflexives, there would have been a gaping hole in her head from where the arrow would have pierced through her. Before she could react, another arrow shot at her, clearly showing the intent of murdering her.

" Merde! (Shit)" Amélie spat out. Out of reflex, her hand tried to reach for her non-existing rifle as she dodged the other arrow. She paused as soon as her grip was met with nothingness. Her eyes widened briefly at the missing weapon, as if that was more shocking than her well- trained behavior. However, she managed to recover herself from her initial shock, quickly hiding herself behind the pierced tree, her chest heaving up and down, adrenaline pumping through her cold veins.

Her predator's aim was undoubtedly on point and without a weapon, she was at the disadvantage for sure. Options ran through her head, trying to find a way to make it alive out of this situation. Most of them sounded stupid and she became more desperate with the each passing second.

"I have no intention to fight!" She yelled out with her heavy french accent over the rain. Even though the wind carried the sound of her voice away, her predator could still easily make out every single word.

Suddenly, a large stomp thumped behind her, creating a rumble beneath the Earth. Little clings of metal pierced through the heavy wind and ringed within Amélie's ear. They grew closer and closer until it stopped.

However, it only lasted a second. She could hear the figure taking a stance and the sound of an arrow pulling against bow strings. "Give me one reason why I should believe that, spider woman?" A husky Japanese voice spoke out, his voice lowering down a few octanes into almost a growl.

Her ears perked up with every small sound that stood out in the rain. She didn't know him. She didn't know his intentions. However, even though all the reasons why she couldn't trust him kept fluttering through her mind, that question gave her a small dose of hope. While she still had her doubts, maybe, just maybe, she could make him listen to her. She had give it a try, Amélie had nothing to lose.

"Because, even if I wanted to, I don't have any weapon on me," she admitted. "If you are willing to lower down your weapon, you can see and confirm it for yourself. I just want to get away from here. That's all," she explained, trying to get her message across.

From behind the tree, she couldn't see the look on the stranger's face nor how he posed himself. Amélie could hear him shuffling around and changing positions but to the extent of how, nothing came to mind. "A sniper without her weapon? Are you trying to fool me? Show yourself at once!" The voice spoke out again, this time louder and more hostile. The string to the bow was heard again and she had a feeling it was ready to aim whenever she planned to move.

The word 'sniper' brought back dizzy memories, which didn't feel like they belonged to her at all. In these blurry bits and pieces, she recalled a faint image of an Egyptian woman, followed by a silhouette of man with a skull mask. A few bloody images of casualties. Amélie winced and bit her bottom lip. Why couldn't she remember things properly?

As much as she didn't want to obey to this stranger's hostile command, there wasn't much else she could do. Even if she tried to make a run for it, she would most likely receive an arrow right in her skull anyways. 'Might as well play with his rules,' she reasoned to herself. "D'accord (Alright)," she muttered obediently.

With hesitation and cautious movements, Amélie slowly peeked around the corner of the tree. Swallowing hard, she raised her hands chest level and made herself fully visible. Her body was tense, ready to make a sudden move.

Right across from Amélie, the man faced her, his darkened features glimmering in the moonlight. He wore an oversized coat that reached up to his neck and had an intricate design on the left sleeve. Feathery eyebrows drew inwards, making his eyes squint in caution. Piercings made little shiny marks on his face and his hair was pulled up into a small bun, revealing the undercut that was underneath. A ready bow completed his look and was aimed right at her.

They stood like that for a while, Amélie with her hands raised and the man with his bow pointed at her. Time seemed to have stopped for a second, snapshotting them in this pose until the man broke and lowered his bow, though keeping ready hands on it. "Explain yourself," he commanded to her, although his voice had a more caring tint to it. The aggression that seeped from his body earlier dissipated and slithered away from Amélie.

As her hands dropped to either side of her, Amélie let out a breath, loosening the tension in her lungs. Her lips parted themselves and her brief answer echoed through the sound of the rain. "I can't," her gaze was cold and distant, lacking proper emotion just like her voice. Whatever she was thinking, she definitely wasn't showing it on surface.

Her rigid body relaxed itself a little bit, yet it remained on guard.

"I don't remember anything."

Amelie couldn't be sure but his reaction looked like anything she said was a complete lie. He almost looked offended, as if she questioned his intelligence, despite only speaking the truth. However, she had to be someone with a negative influence to cause this reaction.

"Do you dare play tricks on me, spider woman?" He said harshly, returning back to his former position with his arrow pointed straight at her. "I understand you may have exceptional skills but I will not be mocked. I can just as easily bring you down so it would be wise to be truthful to me," he continued on, his voice becoming more aggressive and fierce. Anger seeped into the features of his face and a growl appeared from his fanged teeth.

Einstein was right. Time was relative to its observer. When Amélie was looking at the striking tip of the arrow head, her concept of time slowed down. A part of her still tried to make sense of his words as well as the visions she had earlier. Yet, there wasn't a lot to work with. Mostly assumptions she attempted to piece together.

'A sniper with exceptional skills, huh?' Amélie wondered and remained silent, unsure about how to respond. She didn't know how to convince him. No matter what she was going to say, he probably wasn't going to believe her anyways and she didn't blame him for it. She would have probably done the same thing if she was in his spot.

A thought crossed her mind. Considering the way their conversation was going, they probably belonged to opposing sides, which would explain his distrust even more. Once again, she could only assume. Whether that was a good thing or bad thing wasn't the question here. However, it probably meant that he wasn't here to take her back to the place she just ran away from. At least, that was one less thing to worry about.

"Look, I don't know what kind of conflict is currently going on. While I may have belonged to a side, currently I am not taking any." Pause. "Right before I escaped, I could hear some gunshots. Some of them must be from your friends, right? That's why you are here, pointing that arrow at me," she spoke her mind openly, trying to make sense of the whole situation. "Help me escape and I am willing to speak up about anything that I can remember."

Something she said must have sparked a confused reaction within him. The hostile features returned back to confusion. However, there was a sense of wariness attached to it. Silence froze time for a small period while he observed her. Given how his eyes roamed around, Amélie felt almost naked and bare, as if he was picking out all the nooks and crannies of her body and posture.

"...Why do you want to escape?" He asked slowly, his accent emphasizing the vowels in his question. "You are known for your sniper skills and I have heard of the crimes you and your organization have caused. You are known throughout the world and you are a desired piece of many organizations that your evil people would murder to keep. So why would you want to escape that coveted life?" It wasn't hard to catch the disdain that echoed in his voice as he provided reasons against her desire to leave the chaos that ensured inside the building.

However, that's not what she wanted hear. Not at all.

Amélie froze in her spot as a large wave of desolation rolled over her. Her lips briefly parted themselves to say something; however, no proper dialog came out of her. With each reason thrown her way, her one and only plan was crumbling right in front of her, turning into dust and dissolving into nothingness.

She didn't even have time to question herself or her past actions. At that moment in time, she was more concerned about the uncertainty that laid in front of her.

When she broke her silence, she felt more lost than ever. "Then... What else am I supposed to do?" she asked, trying to find some sort of direction. "Even if that's the truth, what then? I can not just go back and let this continue ... when I can not even remember the sins I have committed," she spat out, allowing her confusion to be heard loud and clear. "I don't want that kind of life... Isn't it a good enough reason?"

The silence continued on.

Amélie began to sink further into despair until she heard the footsteps coming closer to her. She flinched, not sure what was going to happen. The man still kept his bow up, pointing right at her chest as he closed the distance between them. Nothing crossed his face and it made it hard to decipher what trickled through his mind. Doubt was everywhere.

Then it amplified further. The man brought down his bow and set it on the ground, resting against his body to make it easier to grab. From the bow pack behind him, he pulled out a thin rope that was curled and knotted with meticulous precision. With one swipe, he managed to open the binding and have the length of the rope cascade within his hands. "If you are certain to escape, then you wouldn't mind if I bound your hands together for security?"

Upon seeing the rope, her desperation remained, yet also slowly transformed into something else - frustration. She glared down at his hands for a brief second. That one second was all she needed. Making up her mind, Amélie swatted his hand away from her and then she kicked him in the groin. "Morceau de merde! (Piece of shit!)"

Aware of the possible consequences, she quickly turned on her heels and made a run for it. Perhaps, if she acted quick enough, she could put some distance between them.

However, that was just wishful thinking.

"You won't get away that easily!" He barked at her, sounding completely unfazed by her strategic kick.

In the one moment she took to quickly peer over her shoulder, she could easily see the dedicated posture he had with his weapon. Perfect precision lined his arms, his feet in perfect parallel with the shot.

Before Amélie could think further, a snap echoed against the trees and a second later, an arrow met with her shoulder. Within another second, a different arrow missed at the base of her feet. What would have been perceived as a fake shot, it was perfectly calculated so her feet could trip amongst themselves. Everything about his technique was done with utmost perfection and skill, showing that she barked up the wrong tree.

And just like that, she tumbled and fell down, hitting her head to the cold ground. She was stunned by the fall, ending up sprawled on the wet surface. The harsh colliding resulted in immense pain and her consciousness started to fade away. She tried to get back on her feet but her body didn't seem cooperate.

As her vision blurred, the sounds were muffled. The last thing Amélie saw before she lost all of her perception was a blurry lightning bolt up in the dark grey sky. However, even though it followed with loud thunder, she couldn't seem to process it.


	3. Light of My Future is Dimming

_**AN: Hi guys! Sorry for the wait on the update. It turns out that we are slower than we thought ^^; But that's ok because! Here's Ch3! YAY! In all honesty, this one is a bit more on the informational side so please truck through as I promise you, it's going to skyrocket from here! Regardless though, I hope that you guys like the update. We have been dying and squealing over the comments we've been receiving and we're always really excited to see what you guys think so please! Let us know! 3 Thanks guys for all the support!**_

Amélie woke up with a splitting headache. She opened one eye long enough to see that the rain had stopped and then shut it again, grimacing at the pain and intrusion of sunlight. The sunlight was already illuminating inside, welcoming her to a bright new day after such a gloomy one – one that she wasn't ready to face. With every passing second, the yesterday's reality slowly sunk in, uncertain if that was a blessing or a curse. When she was ready to get up, her emotions were rather muted, hiding behind her usual cold stare. Her golden eyes wandered around the room, trying to figure out where she was.

Looking up, she noticed that the room had a completely different environment than the desolate forest she was in yesterday. The room was small with a narrow window that allowed sunlight to appear, drowning her in beams of light. Her hands roamed around on the surface below her and a small wave of relief washed over her feeling the blankets that surrounded the bed she was placed on. Amélie attempted to raise herself once more but immediately doubled back from the pain radiating from her shoulder. Closer examination showed that she had scratches and bruises peppered around her arms but the biggest wound came from her right shoulder. However, her expectations became dismantled when she saw the deep care that went into wrapping it with gauze. It was as if whoever brought her didn't want to hurt her, or rather they wanted to ensure quick healing. Regardless, from her vision of being captured, this was significantly better than what she imaged she came from. Suddenly, the door to the room opened and the man from the previous night came in with a bag gripped tightly within his hand. Instead of wearing a heavy jacket, he had a form fitting dark grey shirt that clung tightly on his muscles and matched perfectly with the black cargo pants he wore underneath. His look was completed with his hair pulled back enough to show his undercut and the piercings he had on his nose and ears. "Ah, I see you're awake," he said, breaking the silence between them.

Amélie blinked a few times and remained stubbornly silent, gazing at the man's face with a certain discomfort. She felt puzzled, not sure how to react. Eventually, she made a small sound of displeasure as she averted her gaze away. She was filled with questions, and yet, she settled down with asking the first thing that crossed her mind. "Where am I?"

"I brought you back to my accommodations while here in Canada," the man answered back. His eyes contained caution with worry stained in the pupils. "I do not know why I brought you to this location to be told the truth, but I do have a sense of trust you will remain here before being brought to your next location," he continued on as he moved to the counter and began to unload the contents of the bag. Cases of spices and different containers of food started to fill up the already cramped space that contained other items of cooking nature.

She didn't like the sound of that.

Maintaining her composure, Amélie's gaze locked back on him. "My next location?" She questioned after a pause, repeating his words like a parrot. Her voice carried a tint of worry.

"Yes, you will be taken to the base of Overwatch," he said while still keeping his back to her. His hands were still busy with the food. "They are the group that fought against your people last night. I do not know much about them but... I trust that they are good people..." the man trailed off, though there was something wrong with his voice. It was almost strained, as if he knew something that ran deeper than what he was letting on.

The word 'Overwatch' rang a bell. Once again, Amélie was greeted with small memory fragments that flashed before her eyes; however, she couldn't chase down the memory that tried to bubble its way to the surface. Only blurry images of a French man and his gentle smile appeared in her mind. Whoever it was, he just left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

"And what makes you think I will cooperate with your plan?" She asked out loud, trying to focus back on the conversation. "You are telling me that you don't know much about Overwatch, yet it sounds like you already made up your mind about handing me to them... Who even are you?" She continued with her thick French accent as her eyes peeked at what he was preparing.

Her question must have sparked a reaction to the man since his movements completely stopped. She could see back muscles tensing and his hands gripping the counter. Then he relaxed a bit and began to speak once more. "My identity doesn't matter. The name I have comes with a past that I do not wish to engage anymore. However..." he paused for a moment. Something brewed inside him that Amélie couldn't make out. "While I know nothing about the organization, I know that they are inherently good. My… friend… wouldn't be there if it had a negative influence. That's not who he is..." The man drifted off before tinkering back with the items. Yet, there was something odd by the way he spoke of his friend, as if there was a lingering factor within there that he kept bottled up inside.

Amélie slowly blinked, her eyelashes tangling together. Her gaze lingered on the man's back more than it was supposed to before she averted her gaze away. She could still sense the weird tension that her previous question had caused. Thus, she remained silent for a bit.

She could sympathize him to a certain degree. She didn't want to be associated with a past she couldn't even remember properly. She didn't want to be a part of the conflict. She just wished to gain her memories in her own pace and make up her mind afterwards.

"Wouldn't it be better for everyone if I am not taken to Overwatch?" She brought up, trying to choose her words carefully. She still wanted to escape than kept being hostage but, given his skills with his bow, she needed to be careful. "If my organization is evil, and I am a significant piece for them, then they would go after Overwatch to get me back, which would just put your friend and others in danger... Wouldn't it be better if I just hid and kept a low profile? As long as I am not a part of them, they would be weakened either way, right?"

"I understand your concern but under Overwatch, they can at least keep you safe. With me, I'm afraid that there can be more danger inflicted to you than wanted. Trusting that you are speaking the truth with me, I would like that you aren't in harm's way since I do not know if I would be able to protect you from evil," the man then turned back to Amélie and she could easily see the tired and hurt expression he wore. Despite being in the worst possible situation, there was truth lining his features. However, it only raised more questions on what the man could be hiding. "Of course, it will take them some time to come get you so you will be under my care for a while. It is not ideal but I will do my best. Which, I brought some ingredients for food if you are hungry," he offered, trying to be as warming as possible.

Even though the sudden subject change wasn't desirable, Amélie decided to drop the topic for the time being. "What are you making?" She asked cautiously, failing to mask her curiosity. The pupils of her golden eyes dilated, carefully observing the man.

"Ah, it is nothing too grand," he said with a bit fluster, his finger scratching the side of his head. "There are not too many ingredients around in these parts but I was able to gather enough to make rice, miso soup, and some fish. Though, if that doesn't seem good, I can try to make other dishes but I am not the best at most Western dishes."

As much as she wasn't super familiar with Asian cuisine, she didn't mind it either. "It is fine," Amélie muttered back rather softly, still having small hesitation in her voice which hinted at her lingering distrust. However, she tried to mask it as much as she could. "Actually, I didn't expect any kind of hospitality at all... so it is more than enough." She added as her eyes traced back at her right shoulder, her fingertips merely touching her treated wound.

The man gave a gruntled cough before turning back to the counter and going back to his previous activity. There was a bit silence simmering in the air before he broke it once more. "I know that things can be fearful in the dark and I am trusting that you will not hurt me during this time period," he spoke, wisdom radiating in his words. "If your story is true and you are trying to stay away from that group, then I am willing to work with you provided the same is done for me. I think that is a fair compromise."

"I suppose," she answered with a little bit of ambiguity, going along with the idea for the time being. "When I woke up, I was locked inside this weird room. Now that I think about it, it looked like some sort of laboratory," she brought up, recalling the events from last night. "Without any memories, your mind goes wild with scenarios. So did mine. After hearing gunshots, I just... had to make a run for it," she explained, turning her attention back to the man. After being told that she belonged to an evil organization, Amélie was no longer sure what to believe, but there was that small part of her that hoped his actions wouldn't lie.

"Maybe I was lucky enough to run into you after all. If you aren't a part of Overwatch, then what were you doing out there in the forest?"

Another brief pause occurred. The only sound between them were the sharpening cuts from a knife hitting against a board while slices were being made. It would have been soothing and calming if it wasn't for the tension lingering in the air.

"My...friend was inside the building that Overwatch overtook," he said slowly, as if he was watching each word that came out. "He was in the battle and I grew worried for him. However, I am not...a useful part of the organization so I decided to wait for him outside, seeing if help was needed. I did not expect things to turn out the way they did," the man admitted. His hands still fumbled around with the food on the counter. There was a bit more silence until he spoke up once more. "Do you really not remember anything at all? Not even yourself?"

She couldn't seem to get the words to come out of her mouth. "I..." she began but couldn't continue. She glared at nothing in particular and remained thoughtful, trying to recall any kind of memory of hers.

Her mind was mostly filled with blank spaces and emptiness. How could someone forget about themselves? It was simply bizarre. What made things even more frustrating was the fact that she wanted to recall something, just anything. Yet, all her attempts felt in vain. She couldn't even remember her own surname.

"My name is Amélie," she managed to say out loud, though her voice contained enough doubt to question the truth of her answer.

"Amélie, huh? Well, it is nice to formally meet you," the man said cordially, looking over his shoulder to give her a saluting nod before returning back to his work. "I apologize if I am mistaken but your name appears to be of French origin. Are you from France?" He asked, trying to keep up a casual conversation to alleviate the discomfort between them. Amélie didn't want to admit it straight away but it most definitely helped. Slightly.

"Oui (Yes)," she muttered back as her hands gripped the blankets beneath her. The way he asked the question sparked an interest in her eyes. "Do you happen to know french?" She wondered out loud, allowing herself to sink her teeth in the topic.

"Ah, French," the man answered back with slight nostalgia in his voice. "I should have picked it up earlier. I do happen to know some French but it has been long ago since I last studied it. Back when I was being taught, I learned a variety of languages, French included. However, the ones that stuck to me the most after all those years are Japanese and English. Though, it might be nice to go back to it one day," he continued on, giving more pieces about himself. His husky voice made it known that his primary language was Japanese but there was something about the way he spoke that showed a more strict and formalized setting of learning.

Amélie softly tilted her head to the side, her long hair softly shifting around, following up her motions. "I am going to make an educated guess and say you are Japanese," she joked with a half smirk as her voice carried a faint playful undertone.

"I see you have a natural perception to you," he replied, returning the tone back to her. She couldn't see his face but she could imagine him with a smile on his lips. "But, yes. I am from Japan and was raised there. My experiences were not common, but it is a beautiful place with a lot to see. Do you remember if you have visited the country before?"

"Probably," she answered back with a soft sigh, closing her eyes to gather her thoughts. "Unfortunately, I cannot recall all the details."

"What a shame," the man responded in between clanks of dishes. Scents of food heavily wafted in the air and Amélie could smell the miso soup and fish. She wouldn't admit it right out but it smelled delicious, as if a professional made it. "Japan is truly a beautiful place. I hope you'll be able to see it one day," he spoke on, turning back to Amélie with a tray of food. Everything was placed in perfect array with chopsticks next to all the dishes. She could easily see the separation between her food and his and her eyes watched him to see his next plan of action. The man clapped his hands together and gave a whisper of grace before picking up his utensils to grab a piece of fish. "You do not have to answer but is there anything else you remember?"

The question caused her to take her eyes off him. "I knew you'd ask that," she murmured under her breath. She showed no intention to provide a proper answer, at least for the time being. Instead, she protected her silence and focused on the food in front of her. Amélie's gaze landed on the miso soup. She gently picked it up and brought it close to her face with both hands. Her lips touched the edge of the small bowl as she drank from it like a cup. As she slowly lowered down the bowl, she decided to ask a question that had been bothering her. "Why do you think I have memory loss?" She brought up, curious to know his opinion.

At first, he didn't answer. Only the sound of chews shared between them and Amélie grew a small fear when he didn't answer.

Then, his darkened eyes met her and she felt a small spark between them. "I am not certain. A side of distrust would say that this is a facade and that when I turn my back, I will find a bullet struck through my head," he admitted, looking her down with his continued stare. There wasn't anything joking or even insincere about his words and it gave Amélie slight shivers. "However, if we are believing that you are not here to harm me and that your intentions are genuine, then the reason must be something wrong biologically," he spoke on, his eyes finally detaching themselves from her while picking up his soup and drinking from it. "I am not sure if _he_ will know but my...friend...might know what might have happened. If it helps, I can try to contact him and see if he can give any help."

Even if it was just a possibility, now she had something to look forward to. "Merci (Thank you). That would be helpful." Amélie answered back with a weak smile, one that was made with a sigh of emotional exhaustion.

She looked down to her plate, her hands tentatively picking up the chopsticks. While her movements weren't as elegant as the man's, she still seemed to know how to use the utensils. After taking a few bites, she returned her attention back to him. "You seem to care a lot about your... friend."

"He would disagree with that statement," the man chuckled to himself before taking another bite of the fish. "Him and I haven't had the best history and he views me in a hostile manner. But, despite everything that happened...I still love him," he whispered slowly and quietly before quickly placing another bite in his mouth. He kept something deep within him and there was a secret desire to know what it was. Surely, she couldn't be the only one with a negative past.

"Even if that's the case, I think… your honest feelings matter the most," Amélie commented with a hum. Copying his actions, she focused down on what was in front of her, putting a pause to the conversation. She ate the rest of her food in peace and quiet, without starting a new topic. It seemed the man was doing the same. He didn't respond or make any more comments on the topic.

Only chewing sounds lingered between them until the man took one last bite of his food and stood up, carrying his dishes to the sink. The sound of running water appeared and Amélie could see him cleaning the dishes. "How did you think of the food?" He asked with his back facing towards her.

"Well, it wasn't bad at all," she said aloud and continued, "You don't really come off as someone who is decent at cooking. A hobby of yours?" She asked, giving him a weird backhanded compliment.

Which, oddly enough, he didn't take personally and she could hear him give a small laugh. "If you're someone like me, then you tend to find more time than needed..." However, his voice changed at the end of his sentence from an easy going demeanor to one of almost sadness and anguish. There was something there that bothered him and she could see it from the way his shoulders tensed and his neck hung downward.

Amélie couldn't pinpoint why, but the change in his voice brought a question to mind. "Do you live alone?" She managed to ask rather warmly, even though her cold expression failed to convey the same empathy.

"Only recently. For a long while, I lived with my clan in Japan but... I have realized that I couldn't live that lifestyle anymore. I did too many things that I regret to this day..." He answered back, though his tone became more strained with each passing word

The vague feeling of curiosity slowly took over. "Like, what?" Amélie found herself asking him, perhaps pushing the boundaries. However, there was a part of her wanted to get to know him better.

"...I," he began to say. His shoulders slowly turned towards her, allowing her to see the pain resting within his furrowed eyebrows. His lips quivered, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. "I don't wish to talk about it. You have a fear of your past self but I have done far worse than what you could imagine..." The man hid his face once more. He turned off the faucet and wiped his hands away with a nearby cloth, though his movements were slow and weak in nature. "I… I should go call my broth… friend now. It would be important for him to know the situation," and with that, he quickly left the room Amélie resided in without saying much more.

Amélie let her eyes linger on the closed door for a few seconds as the quietude settled down around her. She thought on his last words. After a defeated sigh escaped her lips, she sank into her spot, getting even more comfortable on the bed. As the silence remained unbroken, she decided to take it easy on herself and rest for the time being.


	4. Begin

**_Hey hey! It's your local, fanfic writing Cookie Monster here, back at it with another chapter. Honest to god, with life happening, it felt like this chapter was never going to get finished but it did and now we can start getting more into the story. It's still a slow build up but I hope that the chapter will be worth the wait. Plus, it seems like fate that we finished it on this moment as Gency has been a popular subject of discourse lately by some salty shippers so I feel like it's good to add more to the tag! Either way, hope y'all enjoy and hope you had a great Easter! - ladyhawkss_**

 ** _Hey, everyone! We are once again back with another chapter. I hope you enjoy it! Truth to be told, it was surprisingly really fun to focus on Genji's point of view. Also, the timing of this chapter is rather fitting with the new archives event. u Anyways, thanks for your patience when it comes to our irregular update schedule. I recently got really busy, so it delayed the process. So my apologies in advance! All your support means a lot to us and have fun reading this chapter! - xxAmilychanxx_**

The cyborg ninja was sitting on the grass floor in a comfortable position. His cybernetic legs were crossed and eyes shut. He wasn't wearing his mask, allowing rays of the sun to gladden his face and warm him up. Plenty of different thoughts roamed inside his mind. However, just like he was taught to do, he acknowledged them and let them pass for the time being, attempting to clear his mind for a couple minutes. Of course, it was hard to stay oblivious to everything around him. The birds were singing a lovely song of peace merrily, while the water from the pond fountain shot high into the air, reflecting color from the sun just like a rainbow. The sound of flowing water echoed through the small man-made garden. However, the thing that disturbed his regular meditation routine wasn't mother nature. Instead, it was a sudden phone call. He disrupted his sit to open his eyes. His hand casually reached for the buzzing sound. Not really paying attention to the phone's screen, he quickly answered the call. "Hello? Genji here."

There was a bit of silence on the other end with sprinkles of awkward coughing. Genji was about to ask the identity until a voice spoke out. "Hello Genji. It is me, Hanzo… your brother..."

Genji's eyes widened slightly at the sound of Hanzo's voice. He wasn't expecting a call from his brother, and he certainly wasn't expecting him to reach out to him on his own. Among the Shimada siblings, Genji was usually the one to initiate conversation. So, the current turn of events was rather unexpected. "B-Brother, what's the matter? すべて大丈夫ですか？(Is everything ok?)" He asked into the phone, getting on his feet.

A sigh breathed from the other end, signaling distress. Genji could almost see his brother clenching his eyes while rubbing his eyebrows in frustration. "...I can not say if everything is ok… Rather I think it is the opposite."

Hanzo sounded a little over stressed for his liking. Genji frowned in return, not liking the direction this conversation was heading. "What happened?" He asked with a deep concern radiating from his voice.

Another heavy pause before Hanzo continued. "That night that you and your people fought the group named Talon...I was there Genji. I only was there to make sure you were alright and that you got away safe but I encountered that spider woman and… I have her in my possession now. However...there is something wrong with her. She is telling me that she doesn't remember anything."

"Wait, you were there? But I thought you said…" Genji started to speak but his voice trailed off. All this time, he was under the assumption that Hanzo wasn't present during the mission. Prior to that night, he recalled asking his brother to join him on the operation, offering him an active position in Overwatch. Like his previous attempts, the conversation ended with Hanzo rejecting the presented offer. "ネバーマインド (Nevermind)… Did you just say that you have Widowmaker in your possession and she is claiming that she can't remember anything?" Genji found himself repeating, appalled at the information. He took a second to process his thoughts, taking in a deep breath. "It was weird that none of the Overwatch agents ran into her during the mission… So, this is what happened." He murmured, giving some insight to Hanzo from his side. "Brother, her claim sounds a bit too convenient for the situation, don't you think so?"

"Yes, I do admit that this claim sounds very convenient. I am not sure if I truly believe it but it has been odd," Hanzo answered back, his voice getting noticeably quieter. "When I met her, she had no weapon. She did attempt to run initially before I caught her but… I can not explain it fully, Genji. She has not escaped yet but it is hard to tell what her true emotions are. She is very emotionless."

Genji knew that Hanzo wouldn't have called him like this if there wasn't some truth behind his words. "Sounds odd, but I'll bite," he admitted, rubbing his chin. "Assuming that Widowmaker is telling the truth... Her memory loss might be Moira's doing," Genji spoke, making an educated guess based on his Blackwatch past with the scientist. "Before Moira started to work for Talon, I used to work with her. She is a geneticist and has done plenty of questionable scientific researches before. I might be wrong but it feels like she is somehow connected to all this... Brother, if we bring Widowmaker to our current Overwatch base, Angela could take a look at her and figure out the real reason behind her memory loss," he suggested.

"Yes, that is where I told her she would go," Hanzo confirmed, agreement already in his voice. "I think being with you and the rest would be the safest bet for her. She doesn't think so but I trust your call, Genji. Which, what would you like me to do with her right now?"

"Well, I will inform others about this and we will try to get there as soon as we can. You have my word," Genji commented before he made an awkward pause. Suddenly his voice sounded less confident than before. "Unfortunately, I cannot give you an exact date or time. Some of the Overwatch agents were wounded during that Talon operation and they are currently recovering. That takes priority," he brought up. "As far as I know, to avoid this unnecessary waiting process, Winston is currently trying to recruit new agents. Since Overwatch is still considered… well, illegal in a sense, that also takes a bit of time. At least the operation was successful, and I can assure you that Talon won't be recovering quick from this. I don't think they will track down Widowmaker anytime soon, so you don't have to worry about that. I know this might be inconvenient for you, but I need you to keep an eye on her. I will let you know as soon as I can gather a team together… Do you think she will cause you any problem for the time being?"

"Don't view me low, Genji. There is no way she would be able to best me in these current circumstances. However," Hanzo paused for a short while before speaking once more. "As much as I am confident in my abilities, it might be difficult to fend that evil group off, especially if that witch doctor comes and decides to make things difficult. I actually think it would be a good idea to bring her to Japan. It would be much harder to track her there and I am more familiar with the landscape than of this other land," Hanzo offered.

Genji took a few seconds to think about his reply. He wanted to consider each possibility to ensure the best outcome. "That actually doesn't sound like a bad idea," he finally admitted with a soft hum, agreement lining in his words. "It would be much safer that way."

"It would, at least for the time being. And it could show where her loyalties lie as well," he replied, making it known that there was an agreement between the two brothers in how to handle the situation. "Though, how should we go about meeting when we get to Japan? Our clan is still there, it could have some potential issues."

"Oh, you can leave that to me. I will get you fake IDs and plane tickets, so that you can get there unnoticed," Genji told Hanzo confidently. Being a part of Overwatch had its perks for situations like this. "Once you arrive, I will meet up with you and give you any other documentation you might need," he further explained calmly, giving a sense of control. "There is this area which used to be under Overwatch's surveillance," he tried to recall. "While our presence isn't as strong as it used to be, I should be able to arrange a place. That should avoid any potential issues our clan might cause." Under the disguise of his calm attitude, Genji's old playful nature still existed and it finally showed itself as a soft giggle escaped his lips. "でも (But), you might want to do some shopping to change your appearances for the time being," he added in an attempt to lighten up the conversation.

Hanzo scoffed at his brother's words. Genji could easily hear that his brother wasn't enjoying the response he was getting but it was the best case scenario in this current moment. "While I am not...a fan of changing my name and appearance...I suppose it'll have to happen while that woman is in my custody. I hope you are able to come to us soon. I'm not sure the life of a babysitter is something I particularly enjoy. I will do it for you since you are my brother but I hope your organization will solve this soon," Hanzo said with bitterness embedded in his tone. He made it known to Genji that this was a type of situation that he didn't want to find himself in. "What else do I need to know brother?"

While Hanzo's reaction wasn't surprising, Genji was simply thankful that he was willing to cooperate and go along with this decision. "Not much…I still need to talk to others before I can inform you any further," he answered briefly. After a short pause, he finally spoke once more. "Brother, I know I am asking too much from you. However, thanks for being understanding," he acknowledged with gratitude radiating from his voice. "Really, I appreciate it."

Genji was met with silence on the other end for a while before Hanzo responded. "It is the least I can do after all that has happened..." he said while giving an awkward cough on the other end. "Then if that is the case, I will await your new message. Update me as soon as you can. Goodbye for now brother."

"Alright, I will talk to you later. さようなら (Goodbye)," Genji muttered as he waited for Hanzo to hang up first. Once the phone call was over, he bit down a sigh, staring blankly at the screen. His face visibly carried a concerned and somewhat confused expression as he returned back to his previous sitting position.

Behind him, light clicks echoed off the tile, as if a small angel was coming to greet him. They grew louder until they stopped next to him. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the figure of Angela Ziegler crouching beside him and setting down a tray. Two teacups laid on the platter with steam radiating from the fine porcelain. "Hello Genji. I finished making tea so I thought I would bring some to you," she said, a light accent peppering her words to make them sound sweeter. Angela tilted her gaze, making eye contact for a small bit. "Genji, is everything alright?"

Bright as the garden already was, Angela's presence seemed to infuse a new light, arising a sense of tranquility for Genji. "Angela..." he called softly, managing to relax his tense shoulders. "I wouldn't describe it as alright. My brother just called me."

Her angelic features twisted for a moment at the mention of his brother. Disdain and disgust crossed over her for an elongated second before coughing back to how she previously looked. "Your brother? What did he have to tell you?" Angela asked but Genji could hear the strain in her questions, as if it physically hurt her to even think of Hanzo.

Genji scratched the back of his head, experiencing a moment of hesitation before he dropped the news. "Remember the most recent mission? Well... I just learned that my brother was present during all of it and he ran into Widowmaker. Now, he has her in his possession and from the sound of it, she is suffering from some sort of amnesia. He told me that she can't remember anything."

"What?" Angela whispered back, her eyes widening at this new information. "He was there? And he has Widowmaker? I'm..." she drifted off, her eyes detaching from him while she stared off in shock. Silence befell them before she spoke again. "So he claims that her memory is gone… Genji, you don't believe that, do you? That sounds a bit too convenient and knowing your brother..." Angela paused as she tried to calm the anger within her features. "He would be the type to put you in even more unnecessary danger."

Upon hearing Angela's words, Genji looked away with a painful smile on his lips. "Yes, I admit it does sound convenient. I also told him that. However... I still do trust him," he said without making an eye contact with her.

Perhaps he was a fool for believing in his brother. Especially after everything he went through, but despite all that, Genji still believed in him and that wasn't something meant to change.

Eventually his brown eyes glanced back at her blue ones. "Angela," Genji began as his hand slowly reached for hers, the metal gently meeting her warm skin. "You don't have to trust him. I don't expect you to do that. Just, trust my judgement," he requested, shouldering the responsibility for his brother's words.

Angela wouldn't look at him but she scoffed, showing her displeasure towards his comment. Genji knew that she couldn't stand the mere mention of his brother and this clearly was no exception. Angela turned her head away enough that he could only see tuffs of her hair pulled into the standard ponytail she was known for. She didn't speak for a moment but then her voice came out in hushed whispers. "Did he even tell you how he got there and why he was there to begin with?" Her face turned back to him and hurt lined her features. "I don't even understand how he knew about the mission but this is something that sounds like it'll get you into trouble and I… I don't want that for you, Genji. You've already been through too much..." she ended up drifting off, her eyes leaving his once more to stare off into the plate where the cups laid in front of them.

"I… was the one who informed him about the mission," Genji answered sheepishly. He was well-aware of the reaction his words were going to cause, but he couldn't dare to ever lie to her. "You see, he told me he wasn't going to show up, so I didn't expect him to be there… I…" A pause occurred as his voice lingered off. "He told me that he was worried about me… That's why he was there that night," he whispered and inadvertently squeezed her hand. His voice carried traces of hope he had for his brother. "Angela, I will speak to Winston and others, alright? …This isn't about me. I just want to be useful to Overwatch and stop Talon from succeeding. I have to do this," his words were proof of yet another act of selflessness.

"Genji… Gosh I wish I could say you're completely selfish but… unfortunately I can't," Angela responded, her face softening up. "I know I shouldn't be this protective and I trust your judgement, I just have seen you going through the worst and it is horrendous. You don't deserve that." She looked back into his digitized eyes and connected with him for another moment. "It seems like we are facing one of Moira's experiments. I'm not sure what she may have given to Widowmaker nor am I familiar with the side effects. Let's try to talk to Winston first about it before bringing it up with others. He may know what to do. Given that Moira and I used to study under the same wing, I may be able to see if there are some old records that give an idea on what could be the cause of this."

"Thank you, Angela," Genji muttered while his hands gently lifted hers. He acted like an old school gentleman and leaned down to plant a kiss on each of her hands as his chapped lips touched her angelic, soft skin. His gesture showed immense care and admiration for the woman who stole his heart, indicating his courtesy and devotion for her. "You might be onto something. I had my suspicions on Moira as well. However, you know her work better than me. I will help you with searching the old records. The more the merrier," he brought up as he pulled himself away, a tenderhearted smile playing across his features. "However, before we speak to Winston..." his voice lacked seriousness while changing the topic. "I would like to enjoy the tea you have brought. Care to join me?"

"Well, I do have a lot of work that needs to be done. I have a patient that has a particularly bad sickness that requires me to do some research on their condition," Angela responded back, though there was a slight tease in her tone. "However, I think it'll be ok if I have some tea," she smiled, a blush radiating on her cheeks as she rubbed the area where he gave her a small kiss. Angela poured the tea into the cups and grabbed one before taking a sip. A soft sigh escaped her lips and a look of content washed over her. "No matter how many times I have this tea, it still tastes like the first time I fell in love with it. I do hope you enjoy it as well Genji."

"We will see," he answered back and returned her playful tone, taking a gracious sip from the warm cup.

The sensation of taste was something that could be shaped by experience and culture. More importantly, it was a feeling he could still experience regardless of his cyborg body.

"It tastes delicious," he hummed back. "When it comes to flavors, you always know the best."

Red brushed up onto her cheeks, making her look away for a second. Whenever Genji spent time with her, she would always give this innocent, flustered smile but he knew it wasn't a bad thing. In fact, it was cute and gentle.

"Goodness Genji, you flatter me too much," she answered, her face reddening a bit more. Angela's eyes swooped down into the liquid of her cup, as if she was trying to avoid his own. "Even back when I first met you, there was always a gentleman inside you towards everyone. I'm sure so many girls were lucky back then..." Angela breathed before wandering off from her thought. Quickly, she took another sip of tea, still avoiding his gaze.

"I don't think they would think that way if they were to see me now," Genji said as a chuckle escaped his lips, his voice carrying a spirited tone. Even though her response brought him back to the years he wasn't too fond of, he didn't let it bother him. "That was a long time ago. I was carefree back then…" he muttered, taking a brief second to drink his tea "… and in fact, too naïve."

"Oh I wouldn't say that," Angela started, blushing a bit more now. "It's very easy to fall in love with your personality, especially how much you've grown over the years." She stopped to take another sip of tea before continuing. "Even after all of what has happened, you're still the charming man that I've grown to lo-...like," Angela froze, strangling the end of her sentence slightly. Her eyes widened and Genji could see her hands shaking the tea cup. She took a large sip and harshly set the cup down, pushing herself up. "Well, I guess it's time for me to go back and check up on my patients," she said in a strained voice. "In a few hours I should be free so let's meet up a bit later to talk to Winston about all of this. I will see you around Genji," And with that, Angela returned back, her wings carrying her slightly in the air, leaving him behind.

"See you..." Genji whispered very softly, his words only audible to himself. He watched her walk away until she completely disappeared from his sight. While he could notice the difference in her body language, he decided to not to read too much into it. Just by speaking to her for a bit, he could feel his heart beating fast. He would be denying himself if he were to say he wasn't looking forward to seeing her again. He took a short glance at her empty cup, his eyes already missing Angela's presence. He drank the rest of his tea and began to resume his interrupted meditation.


End file.
